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Sitting on a pinecone on the edge of a coin

Wondering why I can’t find my fingers or color in the lines

Oh swordfish of my dreams be the starfish that lifts me from my knees

Eating generic cornflakes to save up for some time

Wax is dripping from the sky I need a shoe to dance with me

I look in the mirror and notice it is me, is it just a coincidence or is that how mirrors work?

Oh swordfish of the night come back to me, the starfish that you saw me with was nothing but a fling. You are the only fish and things like a fish, because I don’t know if starfish are actually considered fish even though they are called star “fish” for me